


Safe & Sound

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Angst, Anonymous Sex, Blackmail, Cliche, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mild Praise Kink, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Protective Original Percival Graves, Religious Conflict, Safe House AU, Scar Worship, Self-Harm, Smut, Tropes, another tropey mess, at first, but not like the movie, credence crying during sex, failed, mild salad tossing, mob informant graves, shushing but not during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 22:25:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9462947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Percy Graves is currently in a safe house awaiting Grindelwald's sentencing and trial. It's not much longer.In the meantime a distraction comes in the form of a dark eyed boy who's unaware of what he just stumbled into.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nevospitanniy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevospitanniy/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Lord's Work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8635411) by [betts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betts/pseuds/betts). 



> yay cliche titles and this is more virgin!credence cause its my fave.  
> thanks to seasons-gredence and my twin alex hider for help and ideas.
> 
> i put the lord's work on here because honestly everytime i think of credence going door to door thats the fic i think of. so thank you truly <3
> 
> warning: there is no real plot here.

* * *

 

Credence was left alone for the day when ma went to work and his sisters were off at school, every day. Cleaning the house never took that long, because he did it every day except on Saturday nights and all day Sunday.

He’d been around the houses in the neighborhood, and the next block over, but there was one square shaped dwelling at the top of the hill he’d not yet visited. Ma said rich people lived there, people who’d cared more about their outward appearance and earthly treasures than the afterwards, than their sins or what would happen when they died.

Credence didn’t understand why that should stop them from trying to be saved. So that morning, once he’d finished the little bit of cleaning he had to do, he’d made his lunch and packed his bag, put on his best clothing, still a bit threadbare and worn like the rest of them, and taken off at a fast pace, climbing the hill and crossing the very green grass surrounding the unique house, before approaching the front door and he was halted by the fact there was no door knocker or doorbell, at least not visible.

He stood there for a few moments, trying to think, wondering if he should just knock on the door itself, when it swung in ward, and he was frozen with a hand in the air, halfway extended in front of him.

“Can I help you?”

A man was standing inside the doorframe, long shoulder length hair ma would have called shaggy, hobo-esque, and a slight beard, as if he hadn’t shaved in several days, or broke his razor.

“Yes, uh, do you have a moment to talk about Jesus?”

The man looked somewhat amused, which was a victory, better than having the door slammed in his face, food thrown at him, or cursing of any kind.

“I suppose, sure, but I can’t keep this door open. Why don’t you come inside?”

Credence gulped.

That didn’t happen either, very often, but once, an old lady with about a dozen cats had invited him in and given him a glass of lemonade and a cookie that combined were more sugar he’d had in his entire life. He didn’t sleep very well that night.

“Okay.”

He stepped over the threshold and then the door was slammed shut, and he was being shoved against it, one of the man’s strong looking arms pressed so hard into his neck he thought he might bruise, and he stared, wide eyed, as the man leaned in close to hiss,

“Who sent you? What kind of weapons are you hiding in that bag? Tell me! Now!”

Credence couldn’t help letting out a whimper, he’d never been so frightened in his life, and he tried to speak, but no sound escaped his throat.

The man loosened his hold, and Credence gasped,

“Nothing, it’s just my lunch and more pamphlets, sir.”

It felt right to be respectful, considering how apparently dangerous the man was.

He stepped back, and then yanked Credence’s bag away, almost ripping his jacket in the process, to determine for himself if he was telling the truth.

Credence shivered, still feeling the ghost of the hold on his body, and he hoped his neck wouldn’t have any marks. Ma would usually notice if she didn’t remember making them.

He rubbed at the skin absentmindedly, watching as the man tore through his bag, pulling out his neatly organized containers with his ham sandwich and carrot sticks, along with a recycled bottle of tap water.

“Okay. Sorry. I just… I can’t trust anyone who comes calling. I mean, you don’t look like an assassin, but neither does anyone else.”

The man was looking apologetic and moving back over to return Credence’s bag to his shaking hands.

“It’s okay.”

“Shit kid, don’t you know what this place is?”

Credence shook his head,

“It’s a beautiful house. Expensive.”

The man snorted.

“Gilded cage more like. This is a safe house. You shouldn’t have been able to get to the front door. There are sensors everywhere. Motion detectors go on after dark and the pressure pads under the lawn are supposed to warn me if anyone tries to get close from any of the four sides.”

The man suddenly eyed him, thoroughly, and Credence shivered.

“You are a skinny thing. Maybe you’re too light to set them off.”

Credence shrugged. It was the first time his emaciated form had erred in his favor, it seemed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I should go.”

“You won’t tell anyone what happened, right? Just another lost soul, hmm?”

The man was closer again, eyes dark and brows heavy, piercing into Credence’s very soul, and he shook his head,

“Right. Of course. I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet… for a price.”

The idea came to him in a mad rush. He was trying to save up to run away, and it was slow going, stealing little bits and pieces every Sunday from the plate as it came by him, but he knew it was the only way. He wasn’t allowed to work, to go to school, to leave the house for anything but witnessing. Sometimes there was the occasional person who would slip him a dollar for candy, or whatever little boys liked, but that had been years ago. He had almost two hundred dollars now, but it still wouldn’t get him very far.

The man was staring at him still and a smile quirked the side of his mouth,

“What’s that?”

Credence straightened up to his full height, and inhaled deeply,

“It will cost you fifty dollars for my silence.”

He blinked, and the man was truly smiling now, making something inside Credence’s stomach twist and flip over.

“Just a regular Judas in the making. Aren’t you a clever little thing? Well, not so little…”

The man licked his lips and reached out a hand, from which Credence just barely managed to avoid flinching away. Fingers ran through his hair, as the man’s palm made contact with his face, rubbing over his cheek.

He gulped.

“I haven’t got any money of my own right now, but I could blow you. Fair trade, don’t you think? That would probably cost you a lot more, in today’s market.”

Another smile and Credence’s ears were roaring with his heartbeat, drowning out anything and everything, until he blinked, and his senses returned. The man was still touching his cheek, fingers now grazing over his jaw line.

“Wh-what?”

“Blow you, blowjob. My mouth on your dick, you know?”

Credence gasped and stepped back, forgetting he didn’t have very far to go, and his shoulders bumped into the door,

“That’s wickedness. Sinful depravity. I’m sorry sir, I shouldn’t have asked for money, I know it was wrong. I just need it. Badly.”

Retreating had been a bad idea, as the man followed, and ensured he was well and truly trapped, locked under that gaze.

“Oh, is that right? Well just call me the devil then. I used to deal with pretty things like you all the time, usually in clubs with bad music and shittier lighting. But look at you, truly pure and untouched by the world. Carrying around that bag and trying to spread the good word. And yet, not above blackmail. Something tells me you’ve got massive potential to fall down and join the rest of us in the _worldly_ world of sin. Come on, don’t make me beg. Now I want to taste you.”

The last words were a raspy whisper right at his ear, and Credence shivered again, his eyes betraying him and falling closed, instantly magnifying every other sense, a hand hovering at his hip, where his shirt was riding up from his pants, and the other poised at his neck, thumb pressing against the skin of his neck, a similar manner to before, but gentler.

“I don’t know what to do…”

Credence stammered, eyes opening with a flutter of lashes, to find the man smirking.

“You don’t have to do anything but enjoy, and remember, then we’re even.”

As Credence watched, the man sunk to his knees, and his hands moved down the sides of his waist, pausing at his hips before trailing over his groin, fingers working his button and zipper quickly and before he could really protest, his pants were down his thighs and the man’s cheek was rubbing against his crotch, humming slightly.

“Sweet jesus kid, you’re damn lucky.”

Blasphemy, Credence thought weakly, and then continued to watch, hypnotized as the man reached up to palm over his hardening cock, his emblem of shame, and he found the most pathetic sounds escaping his throat.

“Feels good right?”

Credence nodded, dimly noting how the man was still smiling, and then chuckling,

“I haven’t even touched you yet. Not really.”

The man ran a hand through his long hair, as if to keep it back from his face, and then yanked down Credence’s underwear, and brought his mouth to his cock, stubble scraping against his thighs, just a closed mouth kiss of an obscene nature, and Credence’s knees buckled.

“Whoa there. You want to go sit down?”

Two strong hands were now bracing at the back of his thighs, and Credence gulped, blinking down at the man who looked earnest, as if he was actually concerned about how best to continue condemning his soul.

“Okay.”

The man moved back from him, while tugging up his pants to help him walk, and the second Credence had collapsed on the nearest couch, he was back in front of him, leaning over to mouth at his bare thigh, while his hand stroked over Credence’s cock.

“Oh… god.”

“You can’t tell me this is the first time anyone’s ever paid your fucking gorgeous dick any attention, is it?”

Credence just nodded, words completely failing him.

The man let out a low whistle and then grinned,

“Well damn. You might have to come back another time and let me eat you out. For your silence.”

A wink, and Credence’s mind was racing, trying to figure out exactly what he meant by any of that, before there was a hot wet suction on his cock’s head, and his vision whited out.

When he came back to, he realized the man had put his cock into his mouth, and was _licking_ him while he was moving over the length.

“How… why…?”

No words, but the man hummed around him, and Credence’s body shivered again, but not from cold.

It was a good thing he was sitting down, as his legs felt they’d turned completely to jelly, and he wondered how he would even stumble home in the current condition.

As he felt a hand wrap around the base and stroke up, leaving just the tip inside the man’s mouth, Credence shattered, gasping and crying out, as the blissful agony came to an end.

He could feel the man’s hand squeezing over his bare thigh, before there was a kiss being pressing against his stomach, over his skin, the man’s long hair tickling over other bits of sensitive skin like the curve of his stomach, while his other hand pushed up his shirt even higher, and a finger flicked over one of his nipples, tearing a whimper from him.

“Damn. You’re so cute. I wish I could keep you around to entertain myself. But you really should go. I’m gonna have a hell of a time erasing the footage of you coming up to the house, and explaining why I opened the door. Come on now.”

Credence blinked, and his vision finally cleared, as he realized the man had redressed him and was pulling him to his feet, bag in hand, and heart still pounding.

“Th-thank you.”

“Nah, it was my pleasure. Just make sure you keep that pretty mouth shut, okay?”

Credence nodded and hugged his bag tightly to himself, pretending he couldn’t feel every inch where the man’s lips had touched.

“Take care of yourself.”

“You too sir.”

The man smiled at him one last time, before the door slammed shut.

*

Percival was utterly enchanted by the boy who’d come by earlier in the week, and he’d had a hard time explaining to Picquery about the time gap between the door opening twice. He’d told her it had been to collect a newspaper some brat had tossed on the front porch, and they hadn’t gotten caught on camera. She couldn’t argue him trying to keep the place tidy.

Never mind the fact he was still on a hit list and wasn’t supposed to even look outside much less step outside.

He’d asked how much longer, she’d said at least a week.

Another week of hell.

Of having food delivered by surly looking guards and FBI personnel. A week without any alcohol or cigars and fervent jerk offs in the shower because he thought it might be the only place he had definitely disabled the audio. That had been something fun to do too, erasing the audio of that perfect boy’s voice when he came. He’d replayed it about one hundred times, until he’d memorized it, and then wiped it.

It certainly helped him out if he ever had trouble in the shower thinking of a good porno he’d seen. He’d never thought he would be interested in anyone of the same sex before, but apparently all it took was finding someone so completely off limits and with a jaw line that could cut diamonds.

He sat around for the first three days after he’d seen Picquery and wondered if praying to God for the boy to come back would be worse than trying to summon him with a salt pentagram on the kitchen floor.

It was all ridiculous nonsense. He’d told the boy they were even. He had no reason to come back. He wished he’d kissed him. That had been the dumbest thing he’d ever done, right after offering to blow a total virgin.

Letting those plush and pink lips get away without ever having being tasted.

He groaned, and ran a hand over his face, trying to stop thinking about it.

On the fifth day, he was pretty close to saying ‘fuck it’ and going out to stand on the lawn to try and spot the boy, if indeed he lived nearby or was making the rounds with his fliers.

Then there was a knock on the door, and he nearly fell off the couch.

He didn’t run, he merely speed walked to the front door and almost yanked the handle to open it, not even thinking about how goddamn reckless and stupid that was.

“Hi. Do you have a moment to-!”

Percival reached out and yanked the boy inside with a hand on one arm and effectively put a stop to his spiel.

“You came back.”

The boy just nodded, looking a bit out of breath, and his cheeks were turning red.

Percival grinned,

“You didn’t tell anyone right?”

“Oh no sir, not at all. I just thought maybe you were lonely. You never have guests.”

“Yeah well, I’m in a safe house, which no one, except you and my handlers know about. So. Ergo. No visitors.”

The boy suddenly looked worried,

“Am I putting you in danger?”

Percival shrugged,

“Not exactly, well, maybe a bit. You’re worth it though.”

He dropped his hand and moved back from the boy to the kitchen, thirst overwhelming him, even though his mind was telling him just to throw the boy on the couch and kiss him until he wasn’t any longer.

“Do you have any money now?”

The boy followed him a few paces into the kitchen, and Percival barked out a laugh,

“Oh kid, no I don’t. I won’t until the whole shitty thing is wrapped up. Court dates, trial, sentencing, and the whole shebang. Eventually I’ll be rich though. Hopefully.”

He eyed the boy and saw him looking right back at him, a hopeful glint in his dark eyes.

“You hungry? Thirsty? I’ve got water and orange juice. The building blocks of nutrition according to the government.”

“Why are you in here?”

Percival hissed out a breath,

“I could tell you, but then I’d really be pushing it. You’d owe _me_ big time. So you wouldn’t get anything more out of this… arrangement we have.”

The boy’s dark eyes widened, and Percival tried not to picture how good he’d look on his knees, teary eyed and gasping.

“We have an arrangement?”

“Yeah, you tried to blackmail me, again, and I blew you. Did you forget that?”

The boy was already shaking his head, so vigorous it messed up his dark waves, curling slightly against his ears and jaw.

“No! No of course not. I mean, I didn’t expect to come see you again, but I had some time.”

“Glad you could fit me in between prayer meetings and worship.”

The boy looked horrified, and Percival bit back another laugh.

“No, not at all. I just…”

He trailed off, and seemed unsure.

“You wanted more? I mean its okay. It’s natural. Sex is fun. I can’t understand why you hadn’t tried it before.”

Before the boy could open his mouth and say something about sin, Percival was already walking towards him, seeing the way he tried to retreat but fisted his hands at his side, and remained still.

“So what do you want to bargain with today? Hmm?”

He was right in front of the boy, leaning in to eye his pulse leaping at his neck, and wondering if he’d get to kiss him.

“I think, I mean, I _want_ to do it again.”

Percival smirked,

“Insatiable aren’t you?”

The boy blinked at him, truly naive,

“Wh-what’s that?”

He licked his lips, and reached up to cup that perfect jaw, rubbing his thumb over the boy’s bottom lip, feeling how soft his skin was, and the delicate way he shuddered from the innocent yet intimate contact,

“It means you’re secretly addicted. I don’t blame you. Once you get your first taste, it’s hard to stop.”

The boy nodded, slowly, in effect nuzzling his face into Percival’s palm, and he pressed harder, pushing his thumb between the boy’s lips, feeling a tentative lick of his tongue against the tip.

“So you want me to blow you again, right? What are you going to do for me?”

He pulled back his hand and didn’t miss the whine that escaped the boy, before he blinked,

“I don’t know what to do. Besides that.”

Percival jerked his head towards the closest hallway,

“Why don’t we go to my bedroom this time? The couch isn’t as comfortable.”

Wide eyes again, but a slow nod followed.

He didn’t exactly want to rush, but there was a limited amount of time, and he really wanted to completely get the boy’s shirt off.

“What’s your name?”

He was asking, and Percival sighed as he started to tug off his own sweater and shirt.

“Let’s just keep it to ‘sir.’ Anything more could get you in more trouble and me too.”

“But don’t you want to know my name?”

Percival smirked,

“No. Unless it happens to be ‘angel’ I’m good. I’ll make do.”

The boy was staring at him, at his now bared chest and Percival cocked a brow,

“Your turn.”

His long fingered hands fumbled at his jacket buttons and Percival sighed, before realizing he might as well do it and help things go faster.

Quick and efficient, it was what he was and why he was in the mess he was in the first place, he got the boy down to just his frayed boxers in about thirty seconds. Once he’d started, he didn’t want to stop. The fabric was so worn it was almost see-through, and Percival wasn’t complaining.

“Go on, lie down.”

His entire body was slender and almost too thin, and when he turned his back to Percival, he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from exclaiming at the sight.

Dozens of red lines and scars were marring the pale and perfect skin, and the anger, the same rage that had led to him abandoning Grindelwald’s cause, after finding out innocent people were to be targeted, was flaring up inside of him.

His hands were shaking, so he fisted them at his sides.

“S-sir?”

The boy was watching him, seemingly unsure, as he leaned against the pillow and hugged his knees to his chest. Perhaps he was worried Percival was no longer interested.

“Who did that to you?”

He found himself asking, instead of the pathetic sexy comment he’d been preparing to make, and the boy shivered, and shook his head.

“It’s not important.”

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d crawled onto the bed and bracketed the boy in his arms, hovering just over his mouth with his own, prepared to kiss the truth out of him if necessary.

“It is. You don’t deserve that sort of treatment.”

He suspected it had to be from the boy’s family, as he didn’t seem to have anything else in his life, was always around when every other kid his age should be in school, and clearly didn’t even have a decent piece of clothing to his name.

“Sir, please. Can you just touch me and… forget about it?”

Percival sighed.

Yes. Stick to the plan.

Seduction and sexual entertainment only. Nothing from the real world.

Time.

Time was running out too.

Fuck.

Percival reached down to run a hand up the boy’s inner thigh, ripping a gasp from him, even before making contact with his cock beneath the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Do you want my mouth on your dick?”

The boy just nodded, unable to form words already, and Percival managed a smile at that. He was sweet, too cute and good and already corrupted by him.

But oh, how delicious he sounded the second Percival shifted down to start kissing the expanse of unmarked skin that was his chest and stomach, and even before he’d made contact with his cock, the boy was arching up closer, begging for more.

“Shh-hh, I’ve got you.”

He plucked one of the boy’s hands from where he was fisting the sheets, and put it to his head, guiding the fingers to his long hair,

“Hold on to me, if you need to.”

“I don’t want to hurt you…”

“It’s fine.”

He tugged down the waistband of the boy’s boxers and let his cock spring free and he just stared for a moment. He’d forgotten how pretty it was, and he wished he had enough time to prep and let the boy fuck him.

That would have to be another time, maybe.

Instead, he put a hand to the boy’s hip to steady him, and then leaned down to lick the entire length of the underside, another shaky gasp leaving the boy’s lips, before he began in earnest to suck on him, first the head, tasting salty slick, and then deeper, as much as he could, finally closing his eyes to better focus and stop being distracted by the curve of the boy’s hips and stomach, all the places he wanted to mark with his teeth and lick with his tongue.

Damaged as he was, he was also breath takingly beautiful, and clearly in need of someone to show him, to prove that to him.

Percival was grateful for the chance to do even a little bit of that.

When the hand in his hair tightened, he hummed around the length of the boy’s cock in his mouth and down his throat, and sucked harder, feeling the exact second he started to come.

He pulled up and off and just kissed his way back up the boy’s trembling body, until he was putting his mouth to the crook of the boy’s neck, and murmured,

“How was that my boy?”

“V-very good sir.”

“Only the best for you.”

He meant to be flippant, but he found he actually meant it. In all his life, he’d never done that twice, much less for the same person, and for a man for that matter.

There was a shaky hand fumbling at his crotch, palming clumsily at his own aching cock, and he chuckled.

“Think you’re ready to try it?”

The boy nodded,

“I want to.”

Percival flopped over onto his back, and tucked his hands behind his head,

“Go on then. Show me what you’ve learned.”

The boy was flushing, almost all the way down to his chest, a slight pinking of his pale skin that made him look utterly delectable.

He did as he was told, carefully shifting down Percival’s body, with much less attention to detail of dragging it out, no kisses placed anywhere but below his stomach as he undid his pants and then just paused, unsure.

“Put your hand on it first, you don’t have to use your mouth first, if you don’t want-”

“Okay.”

The boy was already stroking over him, slow and cautious. Percival had never been one to like that sort of approach, but hell, it was _him_.

When the boy finally touched his mouth to his cock, it was probably the sloppiest kiss he’d ever given anything but the back of his hand, but holy shit, it felt like he’d been grazed by a live wire.

His hand was already threading through the boy’s short dark waves, and when he let out a groan, the boy moved lower, little licks of his tongue against the underside of his cock driving him almost insane.

It wasn’t enough pressure or friction to make him come, true, but the simple fact he was _trying_ was enough.

“Use your hand, up and down motions. Like that.”

He tried to be instructive and helpful, but the second the boy actually did it, he was gone, throwing his head back to the pillows, and trying to keep his hips from thrusting up and actually fucking the boy’s throat.

It took all his willpower to do so, but he didn’t want to hurt the boy unnecessarily.

Eventually he knew he needed to warn the boy, so he tightened his hand in his hair, trying to pull him back,

“Wait, stop, I don’t want to…”

He trailed off, as the boy looked up and locked eyes with him, and kept going, only stuttering in surprise when Percival’s cock twitched and he felt the first spurts of come hit the back of his throat.

He did pull back but it only made Percival make a mess of the boy’s chin and mouth.

Some of it landed on Percival’s thighs, all he could look at was the boy though, who brought a hand to his face to smear the white over his skin.

“Oops. I forgot.”

“Holy shit, you realize I was trying to prevent this? Why didn’t you stop?”

The boy just blinked, and his cheeks were turning redder.

“I thought maybe you were just talking about my technique, so I tried to be better.”

“Goddamnit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, don’t apologize, I mean you look good like this too. Is there any look you can’t pull off?”

The boy was frowning, clearly very confused, but Percival just sighed, and yanked him up to lean over his chest, before bringing him down for a messy kiss with a hand at the back of his neck.

After a moment of that, he moved back to forcibly kiss and lick up the rest of his come from the boy’s face, probably scarring him for life.

When he finished, he carefully shifted them so that he was looming over the boy, and for all his experience with sex, it seemed as if the boy was more than a little blissed out.

“What was that?”

He said, barely a whisper.

Percival grinned,

“Never been kissed while covered in a man’s come?”

Wide eyes and a fervent shake of the head. Well of course not.

“That’s what that was. Come on, you better get dressed so I can get this little encounter taken off the tapes.”

*

Credence stared at his secret money clip, which he kept under his pillow at night, and then under the mattress when he left the house, after everyone one. Sometimes he moved it around and tucked it in sock drawers or taped it to the bottom of a cabinet, but it always had to change, because he never knew when ma would go snooping.

He returned home and almost gasped in shock when he saw a definitive bruise on his collarbone. He couldn’t remember the man leaving that, but he didn’t know what to do. Makeup was out of the question, as his ma’s was a shade darker than his skin tone.

Hiding it with a scarf or an unseasonal shirt or sweater couldn’t get him by.

The only thing he could think of was to make it worse.

To give gravity to the story that he’d gotten it by accident.

The pain wasn’t the issue, it was finding the right sort of thing to cause damage but not long lasting. Drawing blood was always tricky, and he couldn’t just ask her to beat him specifically over that.

He finally decided to just use his own belt on it, and then she could draw her own conclusions. When he was in control of it, it almost wasn’t so bad, but he was still blinking back tears when he finished, trying to ensure there was a large enough patch of redness and broken skin to mask the bruise shaped precisely like nothing he’d ever had on his body.

By the time ma got home and saw him, she could have remained silent and just asked for his belt, but instead she counted his leaflets and determined he hadn’t done enough witnessing for her liking, and _then_ held out her hand.

He passed over his belt, and she didn’t seem to notice it already had dried blood on the buckle.

She told him to take off his shirt, and simply added to the scars on his back, and he fought with himself to keep from making a sound, flashing through his most recent happy memories to remain strong.

“Go to bed. You don’t deserve supper after this disappointing behavior.”

“Yes mama.”

That night when he went to bed, he dreamed about the man with the fierce gaze and long hair, and imagined he wasn’t a criminal on the run, but a powerful warlock who was going to rescue him and transform him into something worthy of his attention.

He was woken up by a boxing over his ears.

“What is this?”

His ma was screeching at him, and he thought he’d never heard a more painful sound.

He sat up slowly, ears still ringing, and blinked at her.

Horror washed over him, and he realized she was holding his money clip.

He’d put it under his pillow, hadn’t he? How had she…?

The beating had distracted him. When he’d collapsed into bed, sore and aching, he hadn’t thought to move it back.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to steel himself.

“It is money I’ve earned mama.”

“You don’t need money, you greedy boy. You have me! But if that’s what you want, you want to be rebellious and a slave to world, so be it. Pack your things and get out of my sight.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful…”

He didn’t know why he was even trying, she was no longer listening, and she was pocketing the money, there was chance he would get it back.

“I should whip the sin out of you, but clearly, it never does any good. All this time, I’ve been harboring a demon. Don’t think I didn’t see that mark on you, _boy_. It’s not one I gave you.”

She slammed the door so hard it made him flinch, and he knew he only had a limited amount of time before she’d be back and probably change her mind about hurting him one last time.

There was very little he really wanted to take with him, most of his clothing was old and worn, and barely fit, but he had one copy of the bible he treasured above all else, and he suspected it was because it had been with him since the orphanage, so he took that, and then ran for it.

Only one place stood out in his mind, and he got halfway up the lawn when something was tearing through him, pain lancing over his skin and starting to black out his vision.

He fell to the ground and barely noticed his fingers were twitching like he hadn’t eaten in days.

He hadn’t.

When his eyes opened again, he felt warmth around him, and looked down to see a heavy blanket thrown over him, as well as the smell of antiseptic in the air.

He put a hand to his neck and found scratchy gauze against his fingers.

“Hey. What the fuck were you thinking? This is the final hours, they’ve upped my security. You know how much shit I’m gonna get for this?”

That voice.

Credence turned to see the man with the long hair watching him, beard almost full and yet perfectly trimmed, as if he was planning to go somewhere and needed to look nice.

He always looked nice.

“What happened?”

His own voice was a croak as he felt tears stinging his eyes. He didn’t mean to cause trouble, he’d just had nowhere else to go.

“They’ve got trip wires, and it’s like a virtual electric fence. Unfortunately you and your suitcase were heavy enough to set it off.”

Oh.

“But you’re okay? You’re not mad?”

The man was frowning, before moving in close, kneeling beside where he was laying on the couch, he guessed, and then fumbling for one of his hands,

“Of course I’m okay. I’m not mad, no, just worried. Tell me, why did you come see me, packed like you’re going on some fancy trip?”

Credence smiled weakly over at him, and to his dismay as he blinked, the tears escaped, trailing hotly down his cheeks,

“I didn’t know what to do. You’re the only real person I know in the world. I got kicked out when my ma found out I’d been saving money to run away. I had wanted to make sure I had enough to be able to stay somewhere at least a month… but now, I have nothing.”

The man dropped his eyes, and Credence could feel a thumb rubbing against his knuckles,

“Fuck that’s messed up. I’m really sorry. I mean, I don’t have any money right now, truly. But I will soon, once this goddamn thing is over. By midnight I’ll know. How much did you have?”

Credence shook his head, and tried to pull his hand away, feeling guilty and shameful,

“Two hundred dollars. But I can’t ask you for that. It wouldn’t be right.”

The man was insistent, and a hand was cupping his face, tenderly moving him so he had to lock eyes again with him,

“You’re not asking. I’m giving it to you. We can figure something out if you want to pay me back later. Okay?”

There was a teasing glint in his eyes, but the man sounded more sincere than anyone in Credence’s life.

He let out a shuddering sigh,

“Okay.”

“Good. Now get some rest. I can’t remember the last time I was tasered, but it sure wasn’t pleasant.”

But Credence couldn’t sleep, not really. He was too aware of every little thing the man was doing, whether it be walking around, checking his phone, or puttering around in the kitchen, pouring a glass of something to drink, and then moving to sit on the far end of the couch, thigh almost brushing against Credence’s feet tucked into the blanket.

“Can I know your name yet?”

He finally asked, and the man looked over at him, somewhat taken off guard, as if he’d actually expected him to be asleep.

“What’s that?”

Credence licked his lips and tried again,

“What’s your name, please?”

They’d already shared more intimate experiences than Credence ever imagined, but there was nothing else he wanted than to know who his hero was.

The man sighed, and dropped his head into a hand, long hair falling over his face like a silvery brown curtain, hiding him from sight for a moment, before he spoke again, something muffled Credence couldn’t quite hear.

“Sorry sir, could you say it again?”

He dropped his hand and looked over at Credence with a half smile,

“I said, there’s really not much I can deny you, is there? I’m Percy Graves. Former mob informant, now FBI puppet. Exciting shit, isn’t that?”

Credence didn’t hear much after he heard the man’s name, Mister Graves, and he was smiling, and nodding, before he felt the hand petting over his blanket covered legs.

“You’re too cute, you know that?”

Credence shook his head now, and burrowed deeper under the blanket, secretly craving more contact, but afraid to ask.

“So what’s your name then? Can’t just call you ‘my boy’ forever can I?”

Credence gulped.

He wouldn’t mind.

It was a wicked thought, but he almost said that he would keep calling Mister Graves ‘sir’ if he wanted.

The hand tightened over his ankle, and he could feel the man’s touch burning against him, even through the fabric,

“Come on now, tell me. Please?”

The heat of his gaze was almost equal to heat flaring in Credence’s gut, urging him to get up and crawl over the couch, move as close as he could to the man.

“It’s Credence.”

“Credence what?”

He blinked.

He didn’t want to use _that_ last name anymore. He shook his head.

“Just Credence.”

“Like _Cher_? Just one name?”

He nodded.

Mister Graves sighed,

“Okay then. Nice to meet you, officially Credence. Welcome to the hurricane of crazy that is my life.”

Credence smiled, a bit wider, and shrugged,

“It’s okay. Anything is better than where I was.”

“Wow. That doesn’t really make me feel better; it just makes me wonder, maybe if I complain a bit too much. Damn.”

“I don’t know much about the mob, but it sounds dangerous. I think you probably have a right to complain.”

Mister Graves didn’t look too sure.

“I joined voluntarily, and didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, until it was almost too late. So, I honestly don’t know. I got lucky. Ish.”

Credence nodded, and then his eyes glazed over to the glass of water on the table, and Mister Graves must have noticed him staring.

“Hey are you thirsty? I can get you anything, water, juice, I have milk now too…”

“Just water please.”

Credence sat up further, and pushed down the blanket, before gasping and then pulling it right back up.

Mister Graves was in the kitchen now, but he had to have heard him. When had he taken his shirt off?

He hadn’t even realized it, completely warm and overwhelmed with comfort as he’d been, and now he was running his hands over his chest, and reaching to feel over his back, where there were further bandages.

“You did all this while I was…”

“Unconscious? Yes. You were out for about half an hour. You’re, uh, fairly skinny and you got zapped pretty hard. It could have been longer. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Mister Graves walked over to him with a small smile and held out a glass of water that was so cold it was fogging up the glass.

“Thank you.”

Credence accepted the glass, holding it carefully between both hands and drank deeply, until his throat almost hurt from the chill.

He shivered and set the empty glass down on the coffee table in front of him, and turned to find Mister Graves still standing by, watching him.

“What is it, Mister-” The man held up a hand,

“Just call me Percy, please.”

“Okay. Percy.”

“I’m sorry I don’t mean to stare. I know I just saw you, but like, I didn’t know how long it would be, and then here you are, almost dropping into my lap, again.”

Credence gulped, and tried not to move as the man reached out to touch his face again, gentle, cautious, clearly noticing the red marks by his ears, not quite hidden by his hair, and the scars kissing up over his shoulders.

The bandages couldn’t cover everything.

“How did this happen? Tell me.”

Credence couldn’t find it in him to lie.

“I did it. To cover up the mark you made.”

Mister Graves sank down to sit beside him, somewhat on the blanket, and Credence curled back, tucking his knees under his chin.

“You mean… you did it on purpose?”

Credence nodded, biting his lip before speaking,

“I didn’t want her to know what had happened. She’s very smart, she would have figured it out, and hurt me worse, or kicked me out sooner. I almost wish she had, and then I’d at least still have my money.”

“Oh no, no Credence. Don’t talk like that. That doesn’t justify any of this. No real mother raises a hand or a belt to their child.”

Credence felt uneasy,

“Your parents never punished you?”

Mister Graves sighed, and then coughed out what sounded like a laugh,

“Maybe they should have, should have instilled a better sense of right and wrong, I could have avoided this whole mess.”

“I think if you were going to sin, and you wanted it enough, you would have still done it.”

Mister Graves eyed him,

“Is that what she calls this? Sinning, being true to yourself?”

Credence nodded.

“Well fuck that. You’re here now, with me. You’re safe. You have my word. Though, the word of a convict snitch isn’t much, I know.”

Credence didn’t know what he meant, but he nodded again, and the man laughed.

“What I want to know is when, when exactly did I do something good enough to deserve you coming into my life? That’s what I can’t figure out.”

Credence blinked, and the next thing he knew, the man was pulling him close, blanket and all, hugging him carefully against the bandages on his back, a hand on his neck, keeping him pressed into his chest.

“Sorry. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Are you okay? Do you want me to leave you alone, let you actually sleep a little? You can use my room if you want.”

Credence felt the man pulling away from him, but it was the last thing he wanted. He could feel something like a slower kind of electricity humming under his skin, spreading outward from his stomach, crawling over him, urging him to keep touching the man. So he did. He curled his fingers into the collar of his shirt, and shook his head.

“I don’t want you to leave me alone.”

“What would you like me to do?”

Mister Graves’ voice was a whisper, a rasp of words that Credence could almost feel on his skin, where the man was leaning in to press their foreheads together.

His mouth was hardly an inch away, so Credence shifted closer, and pressed his lips to Mister Graves,’ desperately hoping he’d understand.

His breath came out in a huff, and he murmured,

“Oh.”

The hands moved from around his waist to under his backside, and strong arms were lifting him, holding him close as the man stood, and carried him away from the couch, continuing to kiss him off and on.

“Is this what you want?”

Mister Graves was asking, and Credence could only nod, feverish in his need almost, wanting to shed the blanket like it was a second skin, and be reborn under the man’s touch.

*

Everything wasn’t always about money, Percival knew that. He’d given the boy his name, a shelter for the night, or a few, and he was still trying to figure out how to ask Picquery for five hundred dollars, just for the boy.

Credence.

The little slip of perfection that was all his, it seemed.

As if the universe itself had said, _‘here.’_

Every time he caught himself staring he tried to mentally slap himself and stop, look away, and keep from thinking too far ahead.

The second he had the boy in his bed again, all rational thought went out the window, and he found himself trapped in that dark endless gaze.

“Percy? Mister Graves? Are you okay?”

He blinked, and smiled.

“Yes of course. Just uh, thinking.”

“What about?”

That plush bottom lip was trapped between his teeth, and Percival decided that _he_ wanted to do that, but first, the blanket had to go.

“Shift up over. There you go.”

He had always been shit at giving orders or directions when it came to the bedroom, but the boy seemed to understand, and the second he had moved enough, Percival rolled up the blanket and shoved it to the side.

Now Credence was sitting in just his black trousers and bandages on his back and neck. He looked incredibly fragile and irresistible all at once.

Percival started to undo his sweater and shirt buttons but Credence shook his head, and he stopped.

“What’s wrong? You want me to keep this on? I mean, we don’t have to…”

“No... _I_ want to do it.”

Oh.

So he let him do just that.

Credence went a bit slower than he might have liked, but it meant getting to see how the boy reacted to every inch of skin that was bared, and it didn’t hurt his arousal, not in the slightest.

“You have scars too.”

His hand was grazing his bared stomach and hip, and Percival swallowed thickly,

“Yes.”

Credence was kneeling before he could stop him or question him, putting his mouth to the first and most obvious one, a whitish pink pucker of skin that had been his first brush with death, a stray bullet from a fire fight.

His hand automatically came up to brace himself, fingers weaving through the boy’s hair, and when he felt the mouth part, and the boy’s tongue flicker over his skin, he let out a groan.

“What are you doing?”

“Just trying to kiss it better.”

The thought was sweet, but Percival didn’t like being teased like that.

“Only if I can do you next.”

Credence blinked up at him, and his hands were already moving to Percival’s zipper,

“What?”

“Kiss all your scars. I seem to recall I said I’d eat you out too. Care to let me cash in that favor?”

The boy’s eyes widened,

“What does that mean?”

Percival just laughed,

“Get up on the bed, and take off your pants. I’ll show you.”

Kissing his scars would definitely take longer than it would to make him come just like that, squirming and whimpering, hands scrabbling for a hold on anything, until Percival guided them to his hair, and he knew the friction of his stubble on the boy’s inner thighs surely lent a contract to the silken touch of his lips and tongue over his most sensitive skin.

He kept his own hands on the top of the boy’s thighs, keeping him open so that he could get the best angle, and only when he felt him tensing and he could see that his cock was twitching, frantic to come, did he pull back to stop, and smirk down at him.

“What… why did you stop?”

His voice was wrecked, and his eyes were damp with tears.

Percival had never seen something so beautiful in his entire life.

“I want to see your face when you come.”

He dipped his hand into the small puddle of pre come on Credence’s stomach and reached back down to press one finger inside his hole, as he put his other hand to the boy’s cock, stroking only a few times before he shuddered out a gasp, coming over Percival’s hand and almost up to the bandages on his neck.

“Mmm, good boy.”

He leaned down and trailed kisses up the boy’s stomach and chest, licking and nipping his teeth here and there, testing the boy’s hypersensitivity.

“Mister Graves, Percy, please, I can’t…”

His cock gave a feeble twitch against his thigh, and Percival smirked.

“You’ll recover soon enough. Now as for me, I need a bit longer, so I thought I’d savor it. Would you like to help me?”

Credence nodded, seemingly delirious with pleasure, and he couldn’t resist another smirk and a kiss to the unmarked part of the boy’s neck, pulling a whine from his throat.

“How can I help you?”

“I’d like very much to fuck you. Can I do that?”

“How?”

“Right here.”

Percival circled a finger around Credence’s still slick and trembling muscle, and he shivered,

“You can do that?”

“Of course. I’m sure there’s some kind of immoral name for it, but I just call it another element of sex. If it doesn’t feel good, tell me. Okay?”

Credence nodded, and Percival leaned down to put a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“Be right back.”

He went to retrieve the little bottle of lube he kept in the bathroom, which he knew Picquery was more than aware of, the saucy minx, and returned to find Credence still splayed on the bed, an almost dreamy smile on his face.

“What are you thinking about?”

A flush spread over his pale cheeks and kissed down his neck,

“I like when you call me… your boy.”

Percival cocked a brow at him, watching as his long lashed eyelids fluttered open, and he got lost in the dark gaze,

“Is that right? You like being mine, my pretty, sexy, insatiable boy?”

Credence nodded shyly, and Percival let out a breath,

“Well, I’ll happily do it. What do _you_ want to call me, in here, at least?”

He gestured vaguely to the room, and Credence’s brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

Percival licked his lips,

“Well, obviously I wouldn’t call you by anything sexual outside in the real world. But I mean here, when it’s us,” At this, he dragged a hand down the boy’s side, and relished the shiver that racked through him, “You can call me anything you want.”

“Sir?”

Percival nodded,

“That works for me.”

“Please sir, will you fuck me?”

He cocked a brow at the boy,

“Well, how can I refuse such a polite request?”

He smirked, and he could see the boy still blushing, as his eyes dropped to where Percival was slicking up his cock, before bringing a hand back to rub over the boy’s own cock, and then dropped further, putting any excess lubrication over his hole.

“I’m ready.”

“I know, just can’t be too slow.”

He leaned over the boy’s slim body and pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw line, lips dragging until he was kissing the boy's mouth, trying to distract as he began to push in, nearly hissing out a breath, breaking the kiss at how tight and hot it felt over his cock, it had been far too long since he’d done anything like that.

“Oh.”

The boy was sighing, and worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, making Percival wonder exactly what he was thinking.

“How does it feel my boy?”

Credence didn’t reply with words, but braced his arms around Percival’s neck, drawing him impossibly close, and he could feel the boy’s legs against the sides of his waist, before he was kissing him, with a fervent desperation.

Once he was fully inside, Percival had to stop and hold still as possible, for the sensations were almost overpowering his control, and when Credence mewled under him, begging him to move, he did, but gasped at the feeling, the slip and drag of friction and constant grip throwing him far too close to finishing than was fair.

After he’d embarrassed himself and come within less than a minute, Percival cleaned the boy up and curled up behind him, holding him close to his chest, not ready to cover up with a blanket just yet.

He traced a finger over the older scars he could see on the boy’s back and enjoyed the silence, but Credence broke it soon enough.

“I’m sorry it’s so ugly.”

“What?”

Percival couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

“My back. It’s hideous, I know. It’s the worst part of me. You said my… _cock,_ was pretty, and I guess that’s all I have.”

“Shh-hh, no. Don’t talk like that. Your scars are a part of you, and all of you is attractive, to me at least.”

His hand tightened over the boy’s hip, and he pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades, feeling another shiver rack his body.

“Are you cold?”

Credence shook his head.

“Just scared. I’ve never been so lost. No idea what to do tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to worry about it. You can stay here as long as you like, til you find a job or apply for a loan for school.”

Credence was still shaking his head, and shifting around in Percival’s arms, so that they were facing each other.

He was horrified to see tears streaking down the boy’s cheeks.

“I can’t do anything. I’ve never been to school, and I…”

He buried his head into Percival’s chest, and his body was shaking with silent sobs.

“Oh. Credence, hey, it’s okay. How old are you?”

It was probably a stupidly late question to ask, but it did matter, because there were places he could go to learn the basics, and still be able to go to college.

“Nineteen, Mister Graves.”

“Okay. Now it’s just Percy, remember? That’s fine. You’re old enough to qualify for plenty of things. If you want, I can help you, I can teach you, a few things. Like the basics.”

There was a hand uncurling against his chest, and splaying over his skin, before sliding down to thumb past his navel and brush over his languid cock.

“I know things now, I can’t be completely useless… right?”

Percival tried to ignore the spear of heat that shot through him, imagining Credence in some sort of attire and dancing in a club. He deserved so much better. Pretty as the picture might make.

He put a hand to the boy’s chin, and tilted Credence’s face up until their eyes met,

“You aren’t useless. But you also aren’t going to be using sex for money or work. I don’t want you getting caught up in such a business. Okay? I’ll be more than able to support you even if you can’t get financial aid for school. You don’t owe me a thing.”

Credence still nuzzled against his palm, and nodded.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Percival leaned in to kiss him, before pressing their foreheads together,

“It’ll be okay. Trust me.”

“Yes, I do.”

*

**END**

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> in the graphic i like to think graves got him that shirt as a joke but then he used it as an excuse to literally carry him around all day.


End file.
